Crushed

Lemonade, lemonade,
Sweet and sour.

How many boys can you kiss

in an hour?

One, two, three . . .

(My mother is getting nervous right about now, wondering where this is going. No worries. This isn't about me.)

When we were outside for recess the other day, a group of my 3rd grade girls were jumping rope. They were singing this rhyme as they jumped and counted until the jumper messed up. Then they giggled over how many boys they "kissed." One of them got up to 14. "I kissed 14 boys." I rolled my eyes. "I kissed 9 boys!" Again, my eyes.

Then one of my sweetest little darlings took her turn. She was jumping. "How many boys can you kiss in an hour?" Messed up. None. "I didn't kiss any boys." I high-fived her. "Good girl," I said. That's when another girl, the lone voice-of-reason in my class, stepped up and said, "We shouldn't be kissing boys anyway. We're only in 3rd grade."

Love that kid!

Spring is in the air in my classroom. I know it's only January and the temperature is below freezing, but the songbirds are singing, the butterflies are fluttering, and the girls and boys are gushing about their crushes. They're 8 years old! I hear them talk about girlfriends and boyfriends and who likes whom. I find the notes that say, "Will you be my secret girlfriend? Yes or No? (Circle one.)" It's all cute and adorable, but geez. Can we possibly just focus on reading, writing, and math? I had to give the, "We don't do this in 3rd grade" speech, telling the kids that we don't talk about who people have crushes on, and which girl likes which boy, because it makes people uncomfortable and feelings can be hurt. Happens every year. We're even having girls' lav graffiti issues, with the girls writing about the boys they like or saying rather unkind things about the girls who the boys they like like. (Following that one? Me neither.)

I don't remember being like that in 3rd grade. Things have changed. Yesterday after school, an alarmed-looking mom stopped me and asked if I had a minute for her. She said that while trying to get her son to do something he was trying to avoid she said, "Just do it." He said, "I know that that means." "What do you mean?" "Do it. I know what that means." "What?" "S-E-X."

Oh, this poor women - the look on her face as she told me this. She said that when she asked him where he heard this, he said, "In school." (Quickly thought back over my lesson plans for the week. Nope. Wasn't me.) She couldn't get out of him who said what, but I encouraged her to try to find out more this weekend. Who said what and where it was discussed. Then I'll, um, call in the social worker. Not touching this one.

Let's go to the yarn, shall we?

Look what arrived at my door in a big box:

A big bag o' Knitpicks yarn.


Four hanks of worsted Natural Bare Peruvian Wool so that I can try my hand at dying with Kool-aid. Can't wait to do it. Two hanks of Cadena in the color Neptune. It's a bulky weight that I plan to use for Knitpicks' Chunky Cable Purse. I saw it in their latest catalogue and I'd really light to try it. It's a small bag that will let my give cabling another try. I've only knit cables once on an ill-gauged neck-warmer, but I'm ready to try again.

A close-up of a neck-warmer knit for Bigfoot.

I also bought this new book. So many great patterns! I'm setting a personal goal of knitting all 101 projects.

You didn't believe that for a second, did you? First, I have to finish this:

The main part of my Satchel Grande is done. It only took forever (I've had NO knitting time this week. None. My real life has been interfering in my knitting life. Crappity crap crap.). I'm determined to finish it this weekend. Two little sides and two straps. Can do. I think.